


Can't Wait

by Hot_elf



Series: Dragon Age - series 7 (Megan Cousland / Revon Hawke / Alec Trevelyan) [7]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 06:30:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_elf/pseuds/Hot_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene from "Keeping You Warm", chapter 2 - Nathaniel and Anders having some fun. Probably works just as well on its own. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Wait

**Can't Wait**

They barely made it out of the hall before Nathaniel pressed him hard against the wall, lips hot on his throat. Anders moaned helplessly at the feel of rough stubble against his skin while impatient hands roamed all over his body.

"Nate." He gasped, less than articulate for once. "Don't you—Maker, don't you think we should—"

"What?" Nathaniel's grin was mischievous as he looked up, but the fire in his eyes was still burning. "Take this to my room? I'm not sure I can wait that long."

Again he attacked the mage's neck with his lips, greedy and demanding, and Anders arched up into his touch, shivering with pleasure. "Much more comfortable, though," he managed to force out before a hand cupping his ass rendered him speechless again.

"True." Unexpectedly, Nathaniel let go of him, dragging him along the corridor and up the first flight of stairs.

But then Anders stumbled in his haste and had to brace himself against Nathaniel, and they ended up in another tight embrace against the door of the Keep's library. This time, Nathaniel went straight for his mouth, teasing and licking, until he himself deepened the kiss, hungry for the other man's taste.

Maker, he had dreamed of this for so long! For weeks there had been flirting, hot gazes, incidental touches, but, at the end of each day, Nathaniel had disappeared with Megan, leaving him to his own devices once more. He couldn't even count the times he had moaned Nathaniel's name into his pillow as he’d come into his own hand, shaking with longing.

Now here they were, their bodies pressed so closely together that there could be no doubt about their mutual desire. Anders whimpered softly, shaking with need, but, when he heard Nathaniel's smug chuckle, he was struck by a sudden urge to even things out a bit. Grazing his fingers along the bulge in Nathaniel's leggings, he added the tiniest spark of electricity, just a faint tingle really, but it was enough to make Nathaniel groan, deep in his chest.

"Maker, Anders, what are you doing?" Nathaniel was biting his lip, hard, and for a moment he was nearly dizzy with triumph.

"Want more of that?" He hardly recognized his own voice, shaky with excitement and hoarse.

Nathaniel grabbed him harder, grinding their bodies together. "Oh yes." The effort it cost him to hold back was visible. "My room. Now. Or I—"

He broke off, once again pulling Anders behind him, up the second flight of stairs and straight into his room. As soon as the door fell shut behind them they were touching again, kissing again, Nathaniel's hand untying his ponytail and clenching in his hair, hard enough to hurt. The good kind of hurt, though, and he rubbed himself against the other man like a cat in heat, begging for more; more friction, more heat, more _touch_.

"Nate, please." He was reaching for the fastenings of the archer's armour now, cursing their intricacies even as the scent of the leather went straight to his groin. "Get this off. I can't wait."

"Patience." Nathaniel's quick, ragged breathing belied his outward calm, as did the trembling of his hands when he tried to help.

Together, they finally managed the task, and the pieces of the armour came off one by one, leaving Nathaniel in only his smalls; the outline of his hard cock clearly visible through the thin linen. Anders' own robes came off much faster. By some kind of unspoken agreement, they both paused at this point, reining in their impatience to take a look at each other.

Nathaniel was trim and muscular, with the wide shoulders and narrow hips typical of an archer; his chest covered in black curls. There were scars all over his body, and the pale skin of his torso contrasted sharply with his tanned arms and legs. Anders knew he himself was far less athletic, his body lean and his legs long, but he was actually fairly well-muscled even if he lacked a fighter's bulk. And he could see nothing but sincere appreciation in Nathaniel's gaze as the archer's eyes wandered down his body, taking in his flat stomach before travelling even lower.

The intensity of his stare was almost palpable, and Anders realized he couldn't wait any longer. With a small sigh, he dropped to his knees, taking hold of Nathaniel's hips and mouthing his cock through the damp fabric. Nathaniel's head flew back and he gasped hard.

"You—" Whatever he had been meaning to say got lost as Anders looked up at him through long blond lashes and caught his gaze.

For a moment, Nathaniel actually swayed on his feet and Anders had to hold on to his thighs to steady him. He pulled back for just long enough to remove Nathaniel's smalls, then his mouth was back, teasing, nipping at hard flesh, eager to taste what he had wanted for so long.

"Maker!" Nathaniel was biting his lip again, clearly enjoying what Anders was doing to him.

Though really, Anders was doing it as much for his own pleasure, if he was being completely honest with himself. Feeling Nathaniel's cock twitch between his lips, hearing the needy sounds the other man was making, breathing in the scent of his arousal—it was nearly enough to make him come undone.

And yet, when Nathaniel roughly pulled him to his feet and cupped him through his smalls, the new intensity of this touch was so wonderful that he had to squeeze his eyes shut, muttering incoherent nonsense while Nathaniel slowly guided him toward the bed. They sank down together and his smalls somehow disappeared, and then Nathaniel was there, opening him, _spreading_ him, invading him with that clever tongue of his, and Anders couldn't hold back his moans any longer. He bucked up hard into Nathaniel's hand, still firmly wrapped around his cock. His patience was wearing thin.

"Nathaniel, please." The raw need in his voice was almost embarrassing. "Don't make me wait."

"I won't." Nathaniel's eyes were feverish, his body covered in a fine sheen of sweat. "But, first let me—"

He withdrew for a moment, making Anders whine in frustration and returned with a small jar. Anders couldn't take his eyes off him as he quickly slicked his own cock before turning his attention to Anders again. Gentle fingers prepared him, making him shiver with anticipation until Nathaniel judged him ready, carefully aligned himself, and pushed. He took it slow, patient and controlled, and Anders was grateful, even as every nerve in his body was buzzing with impatience. When he finally began to move faster, it didn't take them long to find a rhythm and an angle that made them both gasp with each thrust.

Nathaniel's hand was back on his cock, gripping him harder this time, and it was perfect, better than he could have imagined. He was close now, very close to losing control. It was just too much, too much sensation, too much of everything, and the pleasure was building rapidly at the base of this spine, ready to burst forth at any moment; too intense to allow coherent thought any more. The whole world was reduced to Nathaniel's hands, Nathaniel's cock inside him, Nathaniel's lips on his throat, and the blindingly intense reaction of his own body.

Two, three more thrusts, the sudden sharp sting of a bite against his throat and he lost it, spilling all across his stomach with a final hoarse scream. Nathaniel growled at the sight and his hips jerked hard as he, too, reached his completion, shuddering all over, his eyes firmly shut.

They kept still for a while, both trembling, both needing to catch their breath. Anders felt relaxed and content, enjoying the warm, heavy weight of his lover on top of him. Tentatively, he stroked Nathaniel's back, smiling to himself when he hummed contentedly. He had known for a long time that the archer wasn't only interested in women, but he hadn't expected the confidence and skill Nathaniel had displayed in their encounter. Whatever he had been up to during his time in the Free Marches, his experiences had clearly included male partners.

When Nathaniel finally pushed himself up with a wistful sigh, placing a brief kiss on his cheek, Anders knew neither of them would regret what had happened. There wouldn't necessarily be a repeat performance—no matter what Nathaniel had said, it was obvious he loved Megan and she loved him. But it had been a pleasant tryst, a long overdue release of the tension between them. And they both knew better than to read too much into it.

"Good night." He sat up and wiped his belly clean with a corner of the sheet before gathering his robes, slipping into them with practiced ease. "Patrol starts early tomorrow."

"Good night, Anders." Nathaniel smiled warmly at him, suppressing a yawn. "Sleep well."

"Oh, I'm sure I will." He turned and left, heading for his own room. A last glance back from the door showed him Nathaniel was already half asleep, a satisfied smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Big hugs and thanks to Suilven for betaing this for me.


End file.
